


Brotherhood

by EnglishPoet18



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 00:36:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1569515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnglishPoet18/pseuds/EnglishPoet18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First off, I would like to say that this is my first time writing slash...ever. I've been doing a lot of thinking about it lately and that scene where Daryl comes upon Joe and the rest of the group holding Rick, Michonne, and Carl hostage keeps running through my mind. It's the scene directly after, the one where after Rick loses his shit, he and Daryl are sitting by the car, and he tells Daryl that he's his brother. That was such a powerful scene that I wanted to do something different with it afterwards.</p><p>Now I know a lot of my readers are die-hard Caryl fans and that's okay. But let's put Carol to the side for just a moment and imagine this instead. I haven't forgotten the way that Rick banished Carol, but it's simply pushed to the side for now. This was more or less me exercising my brain and seeing if I could push myself to do something I've never done. The smut was a little hard for me and for those of you who know me, you know how surprising that is, LOL.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Brotherhood

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I would like to say that this is my first time writing slash...ever. I've been doing a lot of thinking about it lately and that scene where Daryl comes upon Joe and the rest of the group holding Rick, Michonne, and Carl hostage keeps running through my mind. It's the scene directly after, the one where after Rick loses his shit, he and Daryl are sitting by the car, and he tells Daryl that he's his brother. That was such a powerful scene that I wanted to do something different with it afterwards.
> 
> Now I know a lot of my readers are die-hard Caryl fans and that's okay. But let's put Carol to the side for just a moment and imagine this instead. I haven't forgotten the way that Rick banished Carol, but it's simply pushed to the side for now. This was more or less me exercising my brain and seeing if I could push myself to do something I've never done. The smut was a little hard for me and for those of you who know me, you know how surprising that is, LOL.

"You're my brother."

Rick's words still rang sharply in Daryl's ears while leaning against the car, dead bodies strewn about everywhere. Something about hearing Rick say those words to him really struck a chord with him. He was still a little shaky from walking upon the others and seeing Joe holding onto Rick like that. His blood had run through his veins like pure ice upon reading the sheer terror written across his friend's face.

Something like hurt had seemed to pass across Rick's face upon seeing that Daryl was with those group of men. Except, Daryl hadn't really been with those men. He had more or less just been traveling with them because somewhere along the way he had lost himself after the fall of the prison. Everyone that he had tried so hard not to grow close to over the year had disappeared, leaving him roaming the earth all on his own.

Once upon a time, that might not have bothered him and in fact, he might have even welcomed the chance to be on his own. Except now things were different; he was different. Somewhere along the way, he had found a place that he fit in...with people who accepted him as family. The absence of their presence had been a brutal reminder of exactly why he had never allowed himself to draw close to anyone.

"You okay?" Rick's hoarse voice washed over him and he turned his head, squinting against bright sunlight to look at his friend.

"Should be askin' you the same thing," Daryl replied.

Rick shrugged, "I did what I had to do."

Daryl nodded, knowing that his words were true. He stared down at the dirt on his shoes, totally engrossed in just sitting there and nothing more.

"Listen, when I said that you were my brother...I wasn't trying to take the place of your brother. You're my best friend, the only one it seems that I can rely on anymore these days..." Rick explained.

Daryl felt the same way, except in a lot of ways he also felt like he had let Rick and everyone else down. He had wanted to be there for him, but he hadn't been. Hell, he couldn't even find Beth and here he was supposedly a tracker. Not to mention that hanging with Joe's group had almost gotten Rick, Michonne, and Carl killed. He was disgusted by all of it.

He wasn't stupid...he had known that Joe's group was an unsavory sort of bunch, but he hadn't assumed that any of them would go to the extinct of trying to rape kids. He shuddered just thinking about it. He and Merle might have been a couple of assholes, but they had never resorted to rape or murder.

Rick chuckled suddenly and Daryl raised a brow at him, worried that he might be losing his mind. He had just been through a great deal emotionally after all so it was understandable.

"Somethin' funny?" Daryl asked.

"We look like shit," Rick admitted, chuckling again.

Daryl felt the beginnings of a smile break across his face. He wasn't sure how he looked and he knew that he really didn't care either. However, Rick's beard was almost dyed a reddish color from all of the blood. His eyes were bloodshot and he appeared to have aged a great deal since even Daryl had seen him.

"Speak for yerself," Daryl huffed, his voice slightly teasing.

Rick clapped a hand over Daryl's knee and squeezed lightly, "Come on. Let's go find somewhere that I can wash this shit off of me. I'll let Michonne know we're leaving."

Daryl stared down at Rick's hand over his knee, the weight of it bearing down on him. He didn't really deserve this, any of this really. Rick was forgiving him too easily when he should be yelling at him. Daryl wasn't entirely comfortable with this affection...he could deal with anger and pain so much better. Those feelings let you know that you were still alive, that you hadn't just rolled over and given up.

He stood up, his joints aching, while Rick whispered quietly to Michonne who held a sleeping Carl in her arms inside of the truck. Daryl grabbed his bow and waited a few feet away until Rick was done and walking back over to him. They fell into step together, the easiness of it all comforting and familiar to Daryl. He easily pictured them doing the same thing back at the prison, discussing whatever chore had to be done for the day.

He waited for Rick to ask him about Joe and about why Daryl had been with that group, but it never came. It surprised Daryl that the more he waited for it and the longer that Rick was silent, the angrier Daryl got. He could sense this underlying current of energy radiating off of Rick, but for some reason Rick was remaining quiet about it all.

They walked for some time before encountering a small creek. "Creek" was actually a bit of an exaggeration for the dried up trickle, but it would have to do. Daryl kept a steady sweep of the area with his eyes, looking and listening for anything to alert him of danger. He couldn't be sure how well Rick was thinking in his current state of mind.

Without a word, Rick whipped off his shirt and tossed it onto the grass, falling to his knees and cupping small amounts of water to splash his face with. Daryl tried to avert his eyes from his friend's bare chest, but they kept straying back to it with a magnetizing effect. It wasn't that he hadn't ever seen Rick's bare chest before. Hell, the times they were on the road he had seen it plenty, but since they had been at the prison, he hadn't seen it. It was evident to him immediately just how much Rick had changed physically. His body was more lean and supple and instead of the barely there muscles of before, he now had sculpted definition going.

Rick splashed his face several times before turning to glance at Daryl, "There's nothing around. Come on and wash off. I'm not the only one who could use a bath," He said.

Daryl faltered, wondering if Rick had caught him staring. Doing one last sweep, he set his crossbow onto the ground within reach and slipped his shirt over his head. Kneeling next to Rick, he mimicked his actions by dipping his hands into the cool water. It felt nice and soothing on his skin and it was only then that he began to really feel all of his aches and pains.

Once he began to feel less like he was carrying around a layer of dirt across his skin, he used his shirt to pat his face and arms dry, letting it sit out in the sun to dry. Glancing up, he caught Rick's eye and watched as he quickly looked away, his face an unusual shade of red. He was starting to look less like a mass murderer and more like the Rick he had grown to know over the course of time.

"Why haven't ya asked me yet?" Daryl asked, the question burning him up on the inside.

Rick paused in the act of wiping his chest, his eyes drifting to Daryl, "Asked you what?"

"Don't pretend like ya don't know," Daryl met his gaze cooly.

Rick sighed, "It doesn't matter why you were with them. I imagine that you did what you had to do to survive just like the rest of us."

Daryl scoffed, rubbing a hand through his lengthening beard, "What if I said I didn't? I could have left them behind days ago, but I didn't. I knew they were bad guys, but I kept going anyway," He hung his head.

"Like I said, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you're alive. You're not like those men Daryl."

Daryl pushed to his feet, his temper rising, "Bullshit! How the fuck would you know! You been to busy playin' fuckin' farmer in the Goddamn dell to know what the hell I'm like!"

Rick frowned, his eyes hot and intense on Daryl, "I did what I had to do," He spoke softly, his tone menacing, "I did it for my family."

Daryl shook his head, pacing back and forth, his eyes darting around occasionally. Rick's shoulders were squared and Daryl knew he was pushing his buttons, but he just couldn't stop. He needed this anger, this...cleansing and Rick was the lucky winner of the day.

"And look where in the hell it got us!" Daryl spat, "We don't even know where over half of our fuckin' group is!"

"We'll find them. I'm done sitting back and watching others take what's mine," Rick stepped forward, his teeth clenched together tightly, "No more! We'll find the others and God forbid anyone stand in our way. Until then, I've got Michonne, Carl, and...you."

Daryl snorted sarcastically, "I did things with Joe's group I ain't proud of. I ain't the same person anymore," He muttered.

"You're still you. Those people...whatever you did...it's in the past. Let it die there. We're all each other has now and we have to stick together," Rick replied.

"What 'bout Lil' Asskicker? You forget about her?" Daryl hissed.

He couldn't explain what his reason was for continuing to goad Rick like he was doing, but he felt almost powerless to stop it. Maybe it was something about seeing his friend clamp down on Joe's neck so brutally that had gotten his blood stirred up. He wasn't sure, but for whatever reason, he wanted that Rick back. He wanted the guy who wasn't afraid to fight for what he wanted, the guy who didn't try to make peace when he knew it was pointless. Those things were useless in this world. The world was a brutal place with no room for negotiations. It was kill or be killed.

"Fuck you Daryl Dixon!" Rick stepped so close to him that Daryl could feel his warm breath across his face. "Where have you been this whole time? I thought you were a master tracker, yet you haven't found a single soul from our group! Why is that, huh? Have you written us all off that easily?"

Daryl felt the words like a punch to the gut and surprisingly it made him feel a tinge better. He thought about Beth and how she had been taken so easily from him, the only person he had been responsible for...gone.

"I lost Beth," Daryl croaked, his voice coming out strained.

Rick blinked, obviously not having expected that, "You what?"

"We found a house near a graveyard several miles from here. There was food and I should have known better. It was too easy, ya know? But I let her talk me into staying against my better judgement and the shit blew up in our face. She was taken," Daryl explained, the memory still all too fresh to him.

"Taken by who? Did you try to look for her?" Rick asked.

Daryl nodded solemnly, "Ran clean through 'bout two miles. They had a car. I couldn't catch them and I was out of energy so I jus' gave up," He shrugged.

Rick rubbed his chin thoughtfully and Daryl could feel his eyes on him, "What do you need?" Rick asked suddenly, gripping Daryl by the back of his neck, his voice low.

Daryl swallowed, his eyes focusing on Rick's chest. There was something deeper brewing inside of him, this emptiness, this ache to be punished in the worst way. He needed to be touched and he was so tired of doing all of the thinking.

"Fuck you," Daryl raised his eyes to Rick's, his voice low, his body slightly shaking.

"Whatever you need," Rick replied, his voice steady and deep, comforting in its own way.

Rick's fingers clenched around his neck, almost massaging in a way and Daryl closed his eyes, scared of the feelings that were running through him. Slowly, Rick's hand slid up and his fingers curled into Daryl's hair, tugging on it sharply so that Daryl opened his eyes to stare back at him.

"I said..." Rick paused for a beat, "What do you need?"

Daryl felt a growl rumble deep inside of him and he slapped Rick hard across the chest, trying to make him relinquish the hold he had on his hair. It was having a strange effect on Daryl that he didn't quite understand. There wasn't anything sexual about the touch at all, yet Daryl's cock was already pitching a tent within his jeans.

Fire flashed through Rick's eyes when Daryl slapped him and they waged a war over power with their eyes, neither of them backing down. Finally Rick yanked on Daryl's hair harder and pressed his face close enough so their lips were almost touching. Daryl's nostrils flared, but he didn't back away. Rick's chest was heaving so hard that Daryl could feel his chest hair brushing against him with every intake of breath.

"This what you want? You want somebody to fight with?" Rick growled.

Daryl hissed, but he didn't respond even when Rick tugged harder. With a sigh, Rick's lips met Daryl's in a clash of tongues and fury. It startled Daryl at first to feel a man's mouth on his, his best friend's mouth, his tongue sliding into him. Daryl's own hands slid up into Rick's shaggy hair and he roughly tugged, making Rick grunt and then increase the force of his kiss.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Daryl knew that this was crazy, but there was a part of him that also craved it. He needed to be dominated and there was no one else who could fill that position but Rick. Everything in him screamed that this was wrong, but at the same time he felt relief. He may not have wanted it exactly, but he needed it.

He was pretty sure neither of them had done anything like this before judging from the way they went at it like animals. It felt wrong, but exactly right at the same time. Rick's hands roamed down Daryl's chest and paused at his belt, thick fingers lingering hotly against his skin.

"Tell me to stop," Rick muttered hoarsely as he pulled away from the kiss, their foreheads touching.

Daryl sucked in a lungful of air, "No," He growled, pushing Rick's hands from his belt.

Without thinking, he kneeled in front of him and grasped Rick's well worn leather belt in his own rough hands. He would do this for Rick, suck him off and give him that release he needed. He would let Rick use him for his own filthy pleasure.

Rick's hands fell to the sides of his body, his fists loosely clenched. Daryl refused to think about his actions as he unbuckled Rick's belt and unzipped his pants. Pushing his jeans and boxers off of his hips, Daryl came face to face with Rick's cock. It was almost painfully large and Daryl was intrigued by how turned on Rick was by all of this. He pushed away the fact that he was about to have a mouthful of cock and thought back to all of the blowjobs he had received in his lifetime. He thought about technique - what he liked and what he didn't.

"You just gonna stare at it or are you gonna put it in your mouth?" Rick challenged.

Daryl hissed, reaching out with his hand and wrapping his thick fingers around the base of Rick's cock. It was too dry and he spit into his hand, rubbing it in as he slid his hand up from the base. Rick's sharp intake of breath was barely audible, but it was there all the same. Daryl took a few minutes to orient himself with what kind of strokes Rick responded to, how tight he liked to be gripped. It turned out that Rick liked it hard and fast, something that Daryl himself could relate to.

When tiny drops of cum began to appear at the tip of it, Daryl used this thumb to coat Rick's cock with it. Closing his eyes he leaned forward and slid his lips over the hardened flesh. He wrapped them tightly around the cock, sliding onto him deeply. He glanced up at Rick, wanting to know if he was enjoying it. Rick's head was tipped back and the only thing Daryl could see of him was the column of his throat.

Increasing the suction of his mouth, Daryl worked harder to get a response from him. If he was going to suck cock, then he wasn't going to be a pussy about it. He was going to give Rick the best blowjob he had ever had because anything else just wasn't acceptable.

He cradled Rick's balls in his hand and squeezed experimentally, something that he knew that he liked, but wasn't sure how Rick would take to it. Rick's body jerked and one of his hands came around to fist into Daryl's hair, pushing him further down to take more of him. He relaxed his throat, deep-throating his cock. Rick groaned, the noise sounding as if it had been torn from his soul.

"Fuck yeah," Rick said harshly.

Daryl hummed his agreement and Rick's head came up, his eyes flashing down to Daryl's at the sensation. Daryl reached up and tugged on Rick's hand that was holding his hair, hoping that he got the message he was trying to convey. Rick stared at him for several moments and then he yanked on Daryl's hair, pulling on it so sharply that Daryl felt the sting down to his scalp. That was what he needed...Rick gripping him hard, making him feel that twinge of pain. The pain that let him know that he was still very much alive.

Letting some of the spit drip from the sides of his mouth, Daryl made sure to keep Rick's cock nice and wet. With his other hand he gripped him at the base, his fingers flexing around him firmly. Rick pushed himself further into Daryl's mouth causing him to gag, but he didn't pull away. Even as Rick's other hand came to rest on his shoulder, his fingers digging into Daryl's muscles, he didn't pull away and in fact welcomed it.

It took some getting used to, but Daryl finally found a rhythm that worked for him and Rick's low growl from above let him know that he was on the right track. He alternated his strokes, still keeping a firm suction on his cock, but varying between squeezing his balls and gripping his shaft.

Another glance at Rick saw that his eyes were almost closed, his teeth biting down onto his lip as he stared at Daryl. He let his fingers brush over the sensitive area just behind Rick's balls, the area that had always felt good to Daryl. He applied gentle pressure with his fingers, testing his friend's reaction. Rick stiffened and then he thrust forcefully into Daryl's mouth, spurts of cum streaking down Daryl's throat. He tried to swallow as much as possible, most of it sliding down without him even tasting it until the last bit.

Daryl let the last few strings settle on his tongue, giving them an experimental taste. It wasn't as bad as he might have imagined - salty with only a slight aftertaste. Rick's cock began to soften immediately. Daryl leaned back onto his heels, licking the last traces of cum from it, cleaning his friend up.

Rick's grip finally loosened in his hair, his fingers leaving Daryl's shoulders and Daryl felt the loss immediately. It was strange to have just sucked off his best friend, but he had done it because it was Rick. Rick had done so much for him over the course of the months, been there for him in ways that no one else had. It was Rick who had accepted him as family, giving him the quiet strength that he needed to open up to the group a little more.

Rick tucked himself back inside of his pants, neither of them speaking as Daryl slowly climbed to his feet. He wanted to ask Rick if it had been good, but he didn't know the proper way to broach the subject so he just didn't say anything. Rick leaned over and picked up both of their shirts, handing Daryl his. Daryl accepted it with a gruff nod, sliding back on over his head. He turned to wash his face once more when Rick grabbed his arm.

"Should I return the favor? I'm not sure what to do..." Rick said.

Daryl shook his head. They would need to get back to Michonne and Carl. They had been gone long enough, too long probably.

"An' ya think I know what to do? Ain't like I'm a pro at this or nothin'," Daryl muttered.

Rick ran a hand through his hair, "So you mean that was your...you've never done that at all?"

"Hell no I ain't!" Daryl grumbled, not sure if he was supposed to be angry that Rick had assumed he had or not.

Rick ran a hand through his slightly damp hair and then let out a deep breath, "Alright. Think we should head back?"

Daryl shrugged, "After you," He made a sweeping gesture with his hand.

Rick turned to begin walking and Daryl fell in behind him. Rick slowed his pace, allowing Daryl to catch up and keeping the silence they continued on, no further words needed.

...


End file.
